


Perchance to Sleep

by beautifulterriblequeen



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Baby Rayla, Baby Snuggles, Cute, Ethari to the rescue, M/M, Runaan & Ethari are barely dating, Runaan is so tired guys, Shirtless Runaan, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Runaan, Sweet, Unprepared Dad Runaan, cute af, soft, soft Runaan, take your shirt off for science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 04:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20370892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulterriblequeen/pseuds/beautifulterriblequeen
Summary: Runaan's entire body begged for sleep. But the exhausted, yowling little one in his arms had other ideas. Had had these other ideas for hours.For days.Forweeks.“Please, Rayla, go to sleep,” he pleaded.





	Perchance to Sleep

Runaan paced barefoot back and forth along the cool flagstones of his back porch as the waning moon arched slowly overhead, indicative of the wee-est of hours. His shoulders sagged. His hair hung limp and unkempt in its hair cuffs, untended for far too long. His entire body begged for sleep. But the exhausted, yowling little one in his arms had other ideas. Had had these other ideas for hours.

For days.

For _weeks_.

“_Please_, Rayla, go to sleep,” he pleaded, pressing the thousandth kiss atop her tiny white head. He’d tried everything—_again_—from a big meal of sweet milk to singing all her favorite songs to putting her in her softest teal onesie. “You need more sleep than I do, and neither of us are getting any.”

Her only reply was an angry hiccupping cry.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” _You have no idea how sorry. But I can’t shoot horn-budding with an arrow and make you better. This mission is beyond my skills. And so we both suffer._

Rayla’s horns had begun to bud around this time last moon-cycle, but he’d begun to worry that they were growing in at a very difficult angle because they caused her more and more distress and still hadn’t broken through. He didn’t know what to do, and he wasn’t about to take a carefully applied dagger to her tiny head to try and help them along. _I am in no way hard enough for that kind of thing. I’d rather die; just kill me now._

Runaan was so exhausted that he stumbled over nothing and nearly fell. The adrenaline spike that rocketed up his spine woke him fully, and he jerked to a stop in the thin moonlight of the porch, stiff with fear and guilt. _I’ve only had this baby for two full Moons, and I just nearly dropped her! What am I doing? I’m not cut out for this._

The baby in his arms sensed his tension and wailed even louder. Runaan was just about to give in and join her when a knock came at his front door.

At three in the morning.

Runaan’s ears perked, and he shifted into a ready stance. Miraculously, Rayla quieted. Her violet eyes studied Runaan intently.

“Shall we see who it is?” he asked her.

“Mmm-ba,” she replied.

Taking that as agreement, Runaan stealthed through his kitchen on pure muscle memory and protective instincts, lifting a knife from its rack on his way through. At the front door, he paused, weapon in one hand, baby cradled in the other arm.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked through the door.

“Not really. But I bet you do.” The lilting voice belonged to Ethari, and it radiated with a fond smile Runaan could hear through the door.

The sound of the cute elf’s voice sent a burst of energy through Runaan, and he opened the door with his knife hand. He hadn’t seen Ethari in… how many days had it been? Two? Three? He was truly too tired to be certain anymore.

The sight of the well-built craftsman, with that easy stance, those twinkling sunset eyes, and that good humor that always lifted Runaan’s spirits no matter how dark his mood, was a balm to the assassin’s sleep-deprived soul. “What are you _doing_ here?” Runaan’s exhausted voice came out curt, judgmental even, when he felt anything but. “I mean…”

“Well, _someone_ hasn’t slept,” Ethari said blithely, pushing his way inside. “Hey, cutie berry. Are you keeping your Uncle Runaan awake? Are you? Silly girl. Don’t you know you should be sleeping? Even Moonshadows have to sleep sometime. Right, Runaan?”

“Mmmff.” Runaan’s reply was less a response than his shoulders simply surrendering to gravity and forcing a tired sound past his lips.

Rayla studied Ethari with wide eyes as if trying to remember if she knew him or not. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, disarmed Runaan with an ease that would be alarming—and impossible—if he’d been fully awake, and took the assassin by his now-empty hand. “Come with me, you two. I have just the thing.”

Runaan was too bone-weary to argue, and Ethari was such a welcome sight that he let himself be led unprotestingly to the kitchen, where Ethari put his knife back in its place. “What thing?” Runaan asked.

“The thing I went to get. Don’t you remember?”

Runaan honestly couldn’t. He blinked hard and squinted one dazzlingly turquoise eye at Ethari. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

Ethari’s eyes lingered on Runaan’s face. “Oh dear. Runaan…”

“What?”

“I’ve been gone _four days_, Runaan. You haven’t slept at all since I left?”

Runaan slowly nodded. “That would explain why I’m so tired.”

“Moon and shadow,” Ethari cursed under his breath. The craftsman unslung a shoulder bag and set it on the table, rifling through it with sure fingers. “My mother knew exactly what I was talking about, but it took us an extra day and a half to harvest and strain enough extract to last until Rayla’s horns push through. I know I said I’d be back sooner, but I only wanted to make this trip once.”

Rayla seemed entirely fascinated with Ethari's voice, and though she was wriggly, she let Runaan hold her in relative silence as he talked.

Runaan, on the other hand, nearly drifted to sleep standing up. He liked the sound of Ethari's voice, too. It had a lovely soothing effect, and he found himself swaying on his feet.

Ethari's hand on his arm brought him back from the fuzzy edges of sleep. Runaan let out a tiny cough of frustration. “So tired.”

“You really are at the end of your rope, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I’m here, and I’m taking care of both of you. I’ll have you both asleep in twenty minutes.”

A tiny whimper escaped Runaan’s lips. “Please, I will give you anything you want if you can manage that.”

A saucy grin tugged at Ethari's lips. “I’ll remember you said that. Even if you don’t.” He parked Runaan at the table so he wouldn’t fall over and pulled a cool crock of fresh milk from the icebox. While Runaan swayed Rayla in his arms and hummed into her hair, soothing her exhausted whimpers, Ethari busied himself mixing some pale golden extract into a small cup of milk and swirling it around with a flashy flick of his wrist.

Runaan sighed in jealous amusement. The cute elf had no business acting so perky at three in the morning.

As Ethari approached the table, Runaan eyed the cup. “Remind me what that is again.”

Ethari paused and studied him with concern. “It’s extract of brightsleep berries. They grow on the slopes of Smoke Mountain. I told you all of this before I headed out. You really are far too tired to be left on your own, Runaan. I’m staying here for the rest of the night. And the next few nights, too.”

Runaan’s cheeks took on a faint pink hue. “You’re far too cute.”

Ethari blinked. “What?”

Runaan’s eyes flared wide as he belatedly grasped what he’d said. “Kind. _Kind_. I meant kind.”

“Of course you did.” Ethari's cheeks darkened just a shade, but he reached for Rayla with his empty arm. “Give her to me.”

“I’ll do it. She’s used to me.” Runaan held out a hand for the cup.

“No, I’ll hold her while you— My mother told me about this soothing technique you should try.”

Runaan’s fingers paused in their pursuit of the cup. “What’s that?”

“Take off your tunic and your shirt.”

Runaan’s face heated further. “Now really isn’t the time—”

With an exasperated chuckle, Ethari set the cup on the table and dared to reach in and lift Rayla from Runaan’s arm, turning her in his arms so she could still see her long-haired guardian. “No, you goose. That’s the soothing technique. Take off your shirt and hold Rayla against your bare skin.”

Runaan’s blink was achingly slow as he struggled to follow Ethari's logic. “Are you sure…?”

“Yes.”

A note of deep certainty in Ethari's soft voice finally convinced Runaan that the craftsman wasn’t having him on. Deciding that Rayla’s comfort—and the siren call of sleep—were more important than his dignity, Runaan flexed up from his chair and stripped off his tunic and the green shirt he wore under it, draping them across the back of his chair.

Though Ethari's eyes roamed appreciatively across Runaan’s heavily muscled chest, he promptly settled Rayla in Runaan’s arms, picked up the milk cup, and herded the two of them into the next room. He pressed Runaan into a comfy padded chair and knelt by his side, holding out the little cup for Rayla to drink.

Rayla’s eyes focused intently on the cup, and she began to sip at it eagerly. One tiny hand sneaked up and grabbed Runaan’s near side tail. Her tiny warm fingers flexed aimlessly in his soft white hair as she focused on the sweet milk Ethari offered.

Runaan dared not move his head in the slightest while she had him by the hair. It was the first time she’d been totally quiet since her last meal, and he nearly sobbed with relief.

Ethari's sunset eyes found his fluttering ones. “Relax, Runaan. You’re doing great. Just keep holding her against you.”

Runaan caught himself breathing too quickly and took a long, calming breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re good. Look, she’s almost done already. Hungry little thing. Good girl, Rayla.” Ethari brushed the back of one finger down her little cheek.

“You do realize you’re saving my life right now,” Runaan commented softly. “If this works, I will owe you forever.”

“I may just collect it from you, then,” Ethari murmured, keeping his eyes on Rayla.

Runaan blinked hard and forced his eyes to stay open. “Collect what?”

Those bright eyes shifted to Runaan’s turquoise ones again. “Forever.”

“Hmm. Cute. Nice. _Funny_, I meant funny. You’re funny. And sweet. …Did I say sweet?”

Ethari's voice was fond. “You’re quite the charmer when you’re sleep deprived.”

Runaan managed a sleepy raise of his pale eyebrows, attempting to appear flirtatious and ending up somewhere west of drunk. “You have no idea.”

Ethari couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “I’d like to.”

Runaan merely nodded, as if Ethari had said the most reasonable thing in Xadia. “Good thing you’re staying a few nights, then. You can find out.”

“I’m staying because you need to sleep.”

“I might be persuaded not to sleep the _entire_ time you’re here.” Runaan got his winks confused and ended up blinking owlishly at Ethari, who desperately tried not to laugh and distract the baby.

As Ethari leaned in over Rayla’s head for a kiss from Runaan, she sipped the very last of the brightsleep milk from the cup Ethari held, smacked her little lips happily, and let out a startlingly massive burp that made Ethari twitch back in alarm before he got his kiss.

Runaan, too exhausted to react, simply nodded along. “Well said, Rayla.”

She tugged gently on his side tail, and he leaned into it as if he were about to fall asleep with his head tilted.

Ethari's heart utterly melted. He shifted Rayla so she curled right against Runaan’s chest, resting her cheek just below the hollow of his throat, her chubby little legs folded up and pressed warmly against his abs.

Runaan’s bare feet stilled against the wooden floor, and his long toes relaxed. He laid his head back against the chair, wrapped his arms around her with infinite gentleness, and smiled down at her fluffy hair. She smelled of milk and berries and moonlight. Her tiny weight was warm and precious and pure, and he could feel her little heart thrumming away against his own. Rayla’s tiny baby noises grew softer and more content as the brightsleep berry extract eased her discomfort.

Ethari fetched Runaan’s green shirt from the back of the kitchen chair and draped it over the snuggled baby like a blanket, tucking it in around Runaan’s shoulders, while leaving room for Rayla’s head to peep out like a soft dandelion from the grass.

“There you go. All cuddly and warm. Look, Runaan, she’s drifting off.”

Runaan’s eyes were already shut. “Mmmm.”

Ethari waited by Runaan’s side, and together they listened to Rayla’s breathing ease into a pattern of sleep, her tiny breaths evening out into short, soft puffs of sweetness.

“You sleep too, Runaan. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Runaan’s whisper was a bare shiver in the air. “I love—_thank_—actually, I _do_ love you.”

Ethari's response brushed against Runaan’s left ear after a short, sweet pause. “I love you, too. Now _sleep_.”

A tiny, soft sound of assent was Runaan’s only reply. In moments, the only sounds in Runaan’s house were the soft, sleepy breaths of the tiny baby and the big assassin. Ethari dropped a silent kiss onto one of Runaan’s horns and tiptoed over to a nearby chair, where he curled up and watched them sleep until his heart overflowed.

**Author's Note:**

> When you're inspired by baby-related asks but then you're really tired when you write the story, this is what happens. Sorry, Runaan. Get some sleep, fam.


End file.
